


By Love or Fate

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [24]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bat Family, Bat-Dad, DaddyBats, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, No Romance, No Smut, One Shot, Original Character Death(s), Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 12:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: At a social gathering, Bruce meets a charming elderly woman and talks about his children. In doing so, he realizes how much his kids mean to him and how much they've changed him for the better.Little does he know, they're about to save him again. And not in the usual way.





	By Love or Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Someone told me Bruce Wayne couldn't just talk about his kids like a normal dad. Somehow my immediate 'hold my beer' response turned into this story. I have a cold so no promises on the editing.

Bruce was never very fond of elite social events. 

After all the time he spent wearing Kevlar and a cowl, he couldn’t help but feel exposed in his perfectly tailored tuxedo. The people tended to be self important dullards or greedy upperclassmen looking to gain yet more wealth and power. Which meant the conversation was either boring or corrupt. Worse was the feeling that he could be better spending his time elsewhere. Even when they claimed they were supporting a charity or endorsing a museum, nothing ever truly seemed to be accomplished by such events. 

They tended to be empty, cookie-cutter experiences. If it weren’t for his need to keep up appearances as Bruce Wayne, he wouldn’t bother with them. He was glad he hadn’t insisted that any of his children attend this particular party. At least they were out accomplishing something. 

Bruce had been figuratively cornered by a wealthy young widow who was throwing increasingly obvious hints that she was ready to put herself out there again. If he didn’t see a legitimate excuse to pardon himself from her presence soon, he was going to have to claim to need the restroom and spend the rest of the night dodging her. 

Just when he was wondering how rude he could afford to be and if he’d made enough of an appearance to simply head home for the night, a regal looking woman he’d never seen at any such events approached them. Her hair was shiny silver, her eyes were bright and kind, and the well defined lines on her face suggested a mischievous smile often graced her features. She was old, but appeared timeless and beautiful. She walked gracefully in her gown as she approached. 

“Excuse me, Mrs Porter.” The woman’s voice was kind but had a tone of authority to it. “I was just in the ladies room and I believe your daughter may be needing your assistance.” Her voice lowered in volume but not in confidence. “She seems to have overindulged in our host’s lovely champagne.”

“Oh, I...” The widow looked from the noble woman to Bruce with a hint of color blooming on her cheeks. “I’m sure she’s only a little under the weather. I’ll just go and check on her. If you’ll both excuse me?”

The woman nodded regally. “Naturally, dear.”

“Of course.” Bruce offered a sympathetic look. “I hope she feels better in the morning.”

“Poor thing. I think she’s embarrassed.” The woman turned her eyes to Bruce as Mrs Porter made her way out of the room. “Of course I don’t think down on her. Her daughter’s simply at that age where one doesn’t quite know one’s limits.”

Bruce nodded his agreement. “A party like this, its easy for a young adult to accidentally overindulge.”

“I quite agree.” The woman took a glass of champagne that Bruce offered her from a passing waiter with a grateful nod and a small, ironic smile at the timing. “Do you have any children, Mr Wayne?”

Bruce nodded over his own glass of champagne. “Four boys and a girl.”

The woman laughed lightly. “That’s quite a handful. What are their ages?”

Bruce smiled at the assessment. While a good deal of it wasn’t their fault, his children had definitely caused him plenty of stress over the years. “The youngest just turned thirteen. He’s definitely the most trouble of the lot. The others are sixteen, eighteen, nineteen, and twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two?” The woman blinked and looked Bruce over. Then she smiled and took another sip of her champagne. “I must say, either you started very young or you look very good for your age, Mr Wayne.”

Bruce chuckled quietly. To his surprise, he’d actually never had anyone question the age difference between himself and Dick. While he was technically old enough to be Dick’s father, he’d expected the shorter-than-expected age gap to come up the first several times he introduced his eldest son to someone who was unaware of the boy’s history. Until now, it had never happened. He often wondered if people were just being polite or if vigilantism had aged him prematurely enough that everyone assumed he was older. 

“I adopted Dick when he was eight. His parents had been killed while I was in attendance at the circus they performed in. I couldn’t get it out my head and that led me to checking up on him. When I found out he was going to be sent to a juvenile detention center because the local orphanage was too full, I volunteered to take him in...and started making donations to the orphanage. By the time everything was taken care of and they were ready to take him, I found myself too attached to ever give him up.”

Bruce smiled into his glass, seeing not his own reflection in the golden liquid but rather the eight year old boy who had carved a permanent space for himself in Bruce’s heart and home. Speaking of Dick always made a warmth spread through him. Actually, just thinking of his son never failed to fill him with pride and warmth. 

The woman’s smile deepened and her eyes brightened as she looked at Bruce while he spoke. Her voice suggested she completely understood what Bruce felt when he thought of his children. “They do have a way of making us forget whatever we felt was so important before them, don’t they?”

“That’s certainly true.”

“And what of the others? Did fathering Dick make you realize you wanted to start having children or that there were more wonderful children out there to be adopted as well?” Her questions seemed to be born from genuine interest rather than a desire to pry or spread idle gossip. It was refreshing. 

Besides, Bruce always liked talking about his kids. He was surprised he wasn’t asked after them more. As far as he was concerned, they really were the most interesting aspect of Bruce Wayne’s life. “They’re adopted as well. All but the youngest.”

“From the orphanage you championed?”

“Actually, no. Jason -he’s the nineteen year old- I caught trying to steal the tires from my car.”

“No!” The woman sounded equally delighted and shocked. 

Bruce nodded with a small grin. “It’s the truth.

“But he’s not a bad kid.” Bruce was quick to make sure that was understood. The woman’s expression as she agreed suggested that she believed it. “He just got dealt a bad hand. His father was in prison, step-mother had overdosed, and he was living on the streets. I initially tried enrolling him in a school for troubled youths, but it turned out to be a scam. I ended up taking him in too. He’s...had and caused his share of issues, but I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I’d never adopted him.”

It was true. All the turmoil and distress that came with Jason -his life, his death, his resurrection- had shaped Bruce just as much as his parents murder did all those years ago. Moreover, Bruce loved his son. Even when they didn’t speak for months at a time, even when they disagreed, he was just happy the young man was out there. Alive. Fighting. Thriving. 

Plus, if not for Jason, Tim likely would never have become a member of the family. The boy wouldn't have had any reason to seek Bruce out if Jason hadn't been part of his life. Bruce wouldn’t have guessed that Tim didn’t have anyone after the Drakes' deaths. He wouldn't have immediately thought to bring the child into his world. He never would have known how special his child truly is. 

He would be short two sons and he didn’t want to imagine how empty that life would be. 

“My sixteen year old’s name is Timothy. His parents...I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but they were the sort where you couldn’t help but wonder why they had a child to begin with. They were constantly traveling, always focused on business, and often fighting. They didn’t see how lonely he was. I started spending time with him while his parents were traveling; mentoring him, watching over him. I saw how special he was, how deserving he was of the attention he never received from his parents. When they were killed, I couldn’t let him go to an orphanage or to someone who might want to take advantage of his inheritance.”

“So you saved him, too?”

“In all honestly, I’d been going through a hard time myself then -my oldest was spreading his wings and there was some trouble with my second son- and I really can’t say that I saved Tim any more than he saved me.”

The woman offered a smile that laid mostly in her eyes and placed her free hand against her chest. “That is a beautiful way to see your child.”

Bruce supposed it was. He’d never really thought about it before. He knew he loved his kids, knew he needed them, but he’d never considered just how much he loved raising them. How much he cherished their presence in his life. 

By now the woman wore an enchanting smile. “What about your daughter?”

“Cassandra is...special. In so many ways. Her father took her from her mother when she was a baby. He didn’t care for her. Never sent her to school, never encouraged her to find her own interests. She’s very bright, and very self sufficient, but she didn’t know how to read or write when we met. Her vocabulary was so limited she could barely manage to string a sentence together.”

“How awful.” The woman looked entirely disgusted with David Cain. “Please tell me he’s currently locked in a high security prison where he is regularly beaten or sodomized.”

Bruce nearly choked on his champagne at the woman’s sincere tone combined with the harsh words. She merely gave a graceful shrug at his reaction. “What can I say? If karma is indeed a bitch, then she’s my kind of bitch.”

Bruce laughed, genuinely, which was possibly a first for one of these events. At least when none of his children were present. Once he recovered, he smiled at the surprising woman. “I have to say, I feel the same sometimes.”

“As everyone should.” She raised her glass to punctuate the thought. Then she gently touched his arm. “Tell me though, how is your daughter now?”

Bruce smiled. “Beautiful. She’s so determined. So strong. She’s taking martial arts and dance lessens, and you’ve never seen a more graceful young woman in your life. She hasn’t quite caught up in the reading department and her handwriting would make most teachers cringe, but to see her trying to tackle Dickens and making herself hand write a note when she could just text on her way out… It’s really something. She’s a constant source of inspiration.”

“Well Mr Wayne, if anyone here is deserving of five children, it is you. You certainly have the heart for parenting.” Her eyes shone kindly. “To tell you the truth, I’m usually quite bored or disheartened at these events. I have to say, you are a very refreshing change of pace.”

“You know, I was thinking the same about you, Ms...” Bruce chuckled. “I’m sorry, I haven’t asked your name yet. I assure you my manners are usually much better. Have to teach by example and all that.” He offered a wink and the woman responded will a fleeting, bell-like laugh. 

“Ms Marquardt.” She held out a hand, which Bruce took gently. “You may call me Helen. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Wayne.”

“The pleasure is mine. And please, call me Bruce.”

Helen smiled. “I believe I’m in need of some fresh air, Bruce. Or what counts for it here, anyway. Care to escort an old woman to the gardens? I’d love to hear more about your children.”

Bruce offered an arm. “I’d like that too.”

She took his offered arm and they headed out of the house and into the sprawling gardens that surrounded it. As they walked down on of the many long, winding trails, Helen patted his arm. “So, what of your youngest? You said he was thirteen, correct?”

Bruce nodded. “His name is Damian. He was...a surprise. A good one, in the end, but completely unexpected. His mother and I weren’t on good terms and I didn’t know he existed until he was ten.”

Helen frowned. “Well now, _that_ is a shame. You clearly adore your children. Of course, between that and his age, it would explain why you describe him as troublesome. I expect he was quite the handful at first?”

Bruce wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan at the assessment. “You have no idea. I already had each of the others by then and I’m afraid Damian wasn’t keen on the idea of sharing me. He was spoiled rotten, to be honest. He got violent with Tim and tended to be dismissive of the others. Jason and Cassandra mostly kept their distance from him at first but Dick was determined to make Damian understand what it meant that they were brothers.”

Helen placed her free hand over her heart again. “Oh, bless his heart. What a darling young man.” 

He nodded in agreement. “He’s helped me out more than I could ever say.” 

“And how is Damian faring now? Do tell me he’s getting along better with his siblings?”

“ _Much_.” Bruce smiled. “Dick is understandably his favorite brother and he still gets a little too competitive with Tim at times. He still has a short fuse, too, but he’s learning boundaries and self-control. My butler, Alfred, started him with some pets and _that_ has been a godsend. All of the kids can share activities now and family dinners go much smoother. In the end, he’s just their bratty little brother.”

“Well it sounds like you have a wonderful family, Bruce. More importantly, it sounds like you know it. Too many take such things for granted, I’m afraid.” She smiled at him like a pleased, stately grandmother might. “You should feel proud of yourself.”

Bruce thought about that for a moment. He was always proud of his children, but he sometimes forgot to give himself credit for bringing them together. They each had such strong personalities that he sometimes wondered exactly how much of an influence he’d been. In the end, he supposed he couldn’t discount his effect on them. “You know, I am.”

“Good.” Helen nodded and patted his arm again. “So I take it none of your darling children are here tonight?”

Bruce chuckled. “No, I let them off the hook. They’re good kids, they give me plenty of their time as it is. Besides, when I have them, I’d rather have them to myself than drag them to one of these. And it looks like we’re all going to be getting together to build a deluxe turkey coop soon.”

Helen laughed. “A _turkey_ coop?”

Bruce nodded. “One of Damian’s pets. Its been showing signs of stress so Tim did some research and it turns out, he needs friends. Before I go getting any more birds though, we need a larger coop. Fortunately, all of my kids are good about volunteering for manual labor.”

“What a charming family! I am so glad I met you tonight, Bruce. I’ve met plenty of busy CEOs and silver spoon types in my day, and you have re-established my faith that they are not all self-centered pricks.”

Bruce smiled along with the charming woman. “I’m glad.” 

He was about to invite her to the manor for dinner some time, hopefully to meet his children, when the ground gave a jolt as a loud explosion was heard back in the house they’d exited. Spinning around, Bruce saw smoke and flames filling the space where half of the large building should have been. 

Helen's voice stopped Bruce just as he was about to run toward the house. “There isn’t much you can do there, I’m afraid.” 

“What?” Turning back, he saw that she looked sad, but certain, even accepting.

“It was a gas explosion.” She nodded toward the half-destroyed building. “A slow leak, gone unnoticed, triggered by a spark caused by a fallen serving tray.”

Her tone, confident as always, and calm-if-slightly-regretful expression caused a chill to ghost over Bruce’s spine. Suddenly, he was aware that she was not a normal woman. He wasn’t sure what she was.

“Don’t look so suspicious, Bruce.” Her tone was assuring, comforting. “I’m not one of your Rogues.” 

_That_ he definitely wasn’t sure how to respond to. It could have been a reference to Gotham’s Rogues in general, but the way she said _your_ made it feel too specific. As if she knew exactly who she was speaking to. 

“No need to worry. Your secret is safe with me. As I said, I’m not a villain.”

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t get any sense of danger from the woman, but she clearly knew more about what was happening and more about him than she should have. He didn’t like the disparity. His tone was firm, but not too demanding or harsh when he finally found his voice. “What are you?” 

“I am a Messenger of Fate. Sometimes a particular event or chain of events is simply fated to happen, Bruce, and no Batman or Superman can stop it. When these events occur, a Messenger is sometimes sent to determine if any of the afflicted should be spared. Maybe fate has other plans for them, maybe destiny has a claim on them, maybe karma has something else in mind for them, maybe someone up there just likes them and wants to give them a fair chance.”

She smiled, sincerely. “I want you to know I did mean everything that I’ve said to you tonight. You have been a very refreshing change of pace and you are a wonderfully loving father. I actually didn’t realize it was you I would be evaluating until I saw you.”

“You already knew of me?” Bruce couldn’t say why he believed the woman, but he did. All of his instincts, everything he could determine by watching her body language and monitoring her tone, everything in him told him this was the truth. 

Her smile turned slightly mischievous. “You have stirred things up on occasion. We’ve noticed. Also, a friend of mine was assigned to evaluate poor Jason when he was returned to the living.” She looked at him pointedly. “That wasn’t us, just so you know. I don’t have all the details, I’m afraid, but clearly he passed his evaluation.”

She paused a moment for Bruce to let that sink in. Fate hadn’t been responsible for Jason’s return, but it had been ready to take him away again. Somehow, his son proved that he deserved a second chance. 

“I was, however, granted the privilege of being young Timothy’s evaluator when he was on his suicide mission during your recent absence.” Helen looked as though she honestly did consider it a privilege.

But that wasn’t the word that caught Bruce’s attention. 

“ _Suicide_ mission?” He didn’t like the weight she gave that description. 

“That’s what it was meant to be. You see, it had been determined that the world, such as it is, needs Batman. Impressive and valiant though they may be, your progeny were either unwilling or unable to carry on the task by themselves at that time. There was supposed to be a trade.”

Bruce felt a strange, numbing sensation pass over him as realization sunk in. “Me...for Tim.”

Helen nodded, looking contrite. “Exactly. However, after watching him for a time, I was certain of two things. That he would agree to the terms without hesitation or regret-”

Bruce felt like throwing up. He knew she was right. If these Messengers of Fate had told Tim he had to be sacrificed for Bruce to return, the boy would have accepted the trade immediately. 

“And that he was special.” The woman waved a hand as if gracefully shooing a bee away. “Not in the snowflake, ‘everyone is special’ sense of the word. I mean _truly_ special. Fate might have been willing to trade him out but someone definitely has other plans for that boy. Destiny, perhaps. I can’t say what exactly is in store for him, mind, or whether he’d consider it a blessing or a curse. Only that someone has plans for him. And you, of course. 

“So naturally, we came up with something else. Something to give him a chance to prove his worth, let everyone have a fair shot at him; that sort of thing. We ended up with a series of trials, unbeknown to him of course, and he passed admirably. You should be very proud.”

“I am.” He responded without thinking. Of course he was proud of his son. He was also stunned by the knowledge that he had come so close to losing him. That Tim had been _fated_ to die so that Bruce could live. 

Helen nodded as though she had expected nothing more or less than his startled, honest response.

She pulled her gloves out of her clutch and began putting them on as she continued. “We normally don’t reveal ourselves. But I think, after everything, you deserved to be told you couldn’t have changed tonight’s catastrophe.”

She looked him in the eye, definitely trying to drive her point home. “For what it’s worth, quite a few have survived the accident. Mrs Porter took her ill daughter home already. Most of the elderly members of the upper crust have already retired for the night, most of your employees have headed home for a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s meeting, and many of those with young children have returned home to them by now.”

Helen stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on Bruce’s arm. “Most importantly, recall that none of your children were here tonight.” She glanced toward the Gotham skyline. “They are out there, doing what you’ve taught them to. They’ve bettered dozens of lives tonight alone. Its really quite amazing.”

Bruce nodded, a little numbly. It was all so much to take in. Fate, destiny, karma, and something like guardian angels, as far as he could tell, were all very real. It sounded like they weren’t in full control but were able to intervene on occasion. And two of his children had been evaluated by such powers already. A large part of him wanted to leave now, to go find Jason and Tim and tell them that he was proud of them; that he loved them; that he needed them. 

Still, he did want some more answers before he left. There was one thing he simply couldn’t figure out. “Why was I spared tonight? Because of Batman?” He knew Batman was important, but he hadn’t realized he was important enough for fate to intervene on his behalf. 

“Not this time.” The woman smiled brightly. “This time it was simply because you are a loving parent and your children still have need of you. The same reason several others were spared. Although, their children aren’t quite as special as yours.” She gave a conspirative wink. 

Bruce released a short laugh. His children certainly were special. He’d known it before, but the fact was even more apparent now. 

Something else was too. “You said they weren’t able to take over before, that’s why I was spared then. But not this time…” There was mainly one thing that had changed since then, as far as he could tell. “Is that because they’ve learned to work together? Together, they could take over for me now?”

Helen smiled. “You aren’t out there tonight, are you?” 

Bruce returned the smile and she pointed at him and gave him a stern look. “That doesn’t mean you should just leave them to it now. You’re still needed, remember.”

“Oh, I don’t have any plans to retire any time soon.” Bruce considered what he’d learned. “And I’m definitely not leaving them. Not as long as they’re willing to stick around.”

“Good.” The woman looked back at the house, where the flashes of fire trucks and ambulances could be seen. “I think I’ll be going now. Everyone will remember you talking to an older woman, but will be fuzzy on the details. I trust you can come up with an adequate excuse for my absence?”

Bruce waved off the question. “I’ll tell them I walked you around to your car.” 

Helen nodded her thanks. “One more thing to remember, Bruce. Just because you, Jason, and Timothy have been spared before doesn’t necessarily mean you will be spared in the future. Try not to do anything _too_ reckless.” 

She tilted her head briefly and held up a hand. “Well, by your family’s standards, anyway.”

He laughed, equally overwhelmed and amused. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.” He calmed and met her eyes. “Thank you, Helen.”

“You are most welcome, Bruce.” She smiled. “You may or may not see me again, but trust that we will always be watching you and your family.”

That thought was more comforting than it would have been before meeting Helen. Before he could thank her again, however, she disappeared. 

Bruce released another short laugh. He wondered if this was how Jim felt all the time. 

His phone chimed as he walked back to the house. It was Dick’s tone. 

“I’m alright, Dick. I wasn’t in the house when it blew.”

He heard his eldest release a deep breath in relief. “Thank God. We saw the fire and- Wait a sec. Everyone, B is alright.” 

Bruce could hear the slight interference that was a telltale sign of others speaking over Dick’s comm line while he was on the phone. Dick quickly returned his focus to his father though. “Do you know what happened?”

“Gas leak, from what I understand. No sign of foul play so far. I was out in the garden when it happened.”

There was a brief moment of interference before Dick responded. “Apparently gas leak matches the surveillance footage Timmy’s looking at. Want us to head over there?”

“No, I think the first responders have it under control. Actually, I’d like to see you all at the manor, if you don’t mind.” 

“’Course not.” Dick lowered his voice slightly. He sounded concerned. “You sure you’re okay? You sound...funny.”

Bruce considered that. “I know it probably sounds strange, given our...hobbies, but after how close I came to never seeing any of you again tonight, I just need to see you. All of you.”

“Okay.” Without any further questions, Dick started calling his siblings to return home. His words were broken up by the interference caused by the others replying. By the briefness of the responses, it sounded like they were all simply acknowledging and giving their ETAs. No arguments. 

“Thank you, Dick.”

“Anytime, B. Alfred’s on his way to pick you up. We’ll see you back home.”

Bruce smiled at the thought. 

He didn’t think he’d tell them about Helen. Not yet. He knew none of them would take to the recklessness she had warned against, but he also knew most of them wouldn’t be so quick to believe that she was a benevolent being. A couple, he thought, might even be disconcerted by the whole concept. 

Instead he would just continue to spend more time with them. To nourish their relationships with each other and guide them as best he could from here on. To ensure they knew how proud he was of them and what a good job they were doing. 

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to treat Jason and Tim quite the same, knowing how close he’d come to losing them all over again. But he would make it work. He was sure of it. He was also going to see how much they would tell him about what they’d gone through. It would take time. But he had that now. 

He was going to make the most of it with his family.


End file.
